Risk of Rain
by Darthkvzn
Summary: The classic story of a rogue-like thief meeting a girl he never thought he would. With the appropriate RWBY twist of course; basically my version of how Roman met Neo, and how they got to be..."associates". Warning, contains *some* adult themes, such as violence and very light nudity, though not enough to warrant an M-Rating.
1. The Thief

**Hello, and welcome to Risk of Rain! This is my take on how Neo met Roman. This is, of course, purely speculation, since nothing is really confirmed about them. There might be some hints of romance, Neo is...well, you'll see, and Roman himself will be a bit less flamboyant, as I had to explain a bit of what I think might be his backstory, too. Nothing, further, enjoy! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>Roman Torchwick used to be defined as a nice guy. Really, he still was, even if his line of work might make him seem like the bad guy. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.<p>

There was a time, though, when Roman worked for the good guys. His unique skillset was on par with those of budding huntsmen, his combat prowess certainly gifted. As a kid, he'd never had all that much. Lacking a father, any siblings, and mostly devoid of Lien, his beloved mother and him had had a tough time during his early years.

As his abilities developed and became noticeable, he gained the attention of Vale's talent seekers, and eventually gotten a shot at studying at Signal Academy, with a full scholarship. He'd fit in well, as his natural charisma, charm and quick wit had spared him the cruel laughter he'd received years past due to his place at the bottom of society. He'd vowed early on never to let that get to him, preferring to use his sharp tongue to his advantage, turning the derisive comments against his would-be attackers.

Life, though, was far from fair. And thus, eventually, his new "friends" had discovered his house one day, in the slums of a town nearby Vale.

He'd lost all those friends, that day. And his place at the Academy. The beaten up schoolmates had made sure of that.

So he'd taken Melodic Cudgel, his recently forged weapon-cane, kissed his loving mother goodbye, and set out to put his skills to the test...for a slightly less noble, and certainly more illegal goal.

Roman was no ignorant, he'd known about his problem for a very long time. It had started innocently enough; a candy bar here, a pound of sugar there. With such a hard monetary situation, it's what he'd had to do to ensure their survival. People would say he stooped to _that_ level; Roman would say they'd never had the chance to be in another. But he'd always tried to do something nice to...compensate for his deeds. And though his thieving habits became a commonly known fact, the neighbors and shopkeepers decided to turn a blind eye to his developing kleptomania.

His mom knew about it, too. But her work did not provide enough to cover basic services, let alone their nourishment. So they'd developed a routine, where she pretended to scold him every time he stole, he pretended to be sorry about it, and she gave him a speech about how he shouldn't be a thief. Then they'd eat.

He needed little to survive, as a result. However, he _wanted_ more. So he set out into the main city in the Kingdom of Vale. He'd had three years of huntsman training, so he knew how to infiltrate, how to avoid detection. Even with his bright orange hair, he knew how to go unnoticed. The blessings of being the runt of society. He made friends. He gained contacts, and information. He intimidated where he couldn't charm, and he humiliated those that wouldn't budge even then. He had no intention of becoming a crime boss then. Too noticeable. He kept to the shadows, as that was vital to his new line of work: being a master thief.

Having experienced poverty, he knew just his ideal target. The rich. Those in control. The government officials who had their balls and great dinners, while people died of hunger, or out of a lack of protection against the creatures of Grimm. And so he stole, to his heart's content. A third of the bounty for him, another for his mother, and the last he gave away. He knew why he did it. It reminded him of the dynamic he had with his loving mother. He did the crime, but not the time, so that was his way of keeping himself balanced. With the universe or whatever.

Such was his lifestyle for the next 5 years or so. He'd become _very_ rich. Enough to bribe law enforcement on a regular basis, more than the rich people he still stole from. He'd kept the habits, of course. More as a hobby, than anything else. It wouldn't do to have the title of Master Thief, and not keep up with the updated security systems, now would it?

Tonight's target was one of the less ambitious ones. Mother had fallen ill, and so he needed to set up a fund for her expenses. The mansion he was targeting was enormous, but the owners were...eccentric. They had no staff to speak of, their security systems were almost non-existent, and it was rumored within the scientific community that they were fond of performing...experiments. He was wary, of course. For all he knew, they had pet Beowolves guarding, or Nevermores nesting on the rafters.

He'd stopped trying to conceal himself, preferring to indulge himself in flamboyant dressing and presentation. When before he'd used black bodysuits and covered his face, now he wore a white suit and a cocky smile. Descending upon the roof of the house, he found a window to the attic half open. _Rookie mistake_, he scoffed. You just didn't allow that, these days. Maybe they really didn't give a damn about their safety? He entered the house, and he noticed the attic was lit. A starkly decorated bedroom, from the looks of it. There was a full body mirror in front of a simple brown bed with pink sheets. Not what he expected from such a rich house. The bed looked unmade...which meant someone did live here, and he had to move, fast. It was past midnight, so the occupant of this room must've gone for a glass of water or something like that. He hid in the rafters, making sure not to move too much, and to be silent with his breathing.

He was getting bored...until the door opened. In walked a very, very small figure. A girl, by the looks of it. Now Roman wasn't one to be embarrassed by...well, anything. But the girl was wearing nothing but a couple of towels, one for her head, and one for her body. The girl was uncharacteristically silent. He'd expected her to at least make _some_ sound. That made things even more complicated. He narrowed his eyes as much as possible, trying to avoid seeing anything he wasn't meant to. Who knew how old the girl was. He'd stick his criminal record to stealing, thank you very much. The girl got rid of her head towel, and he was baffled. The girl had pink and brown hair, parted down the middle. It was very long, almost to her hip.

Color in Remnant was extremely important. After the war, the need to express had permeated society. He was proud of his own, bright orange hair. He wore a mix of dark and bright clothing because that's how he felt himself. Not bad, but certainly not good, either. He wondered what this girl in particular wished to express with her choice in colors.

That is, until she dropped the other towel.

To his credit, he only caught the smallest glimpse of the girl's lower bare back. He averted his eyes as soon as he could. From what he did see, the girl was unlikely to be underage, albeit barely. He heard some rustling, so he risked a peek. The girl had put on what seemed to be a short white nightgown. She sat at a desk and began to fiddle with a long object. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a parasol, pink in color. If Roman had been interested before, he was a lot more, now.

After about five minutes of whirring sounds, the girl got up, and went to bed. It was then that he saw her eyes...her pupils matched her hair color. Pink eye under the pink side, and brown eye under the brown side. He was tempted to just come down and talk with her...but the job came first. Five minutes later, and after making sure the girl hadn't caught him or stirred, he made his move. He exited her room as stealthily as possible, and got to work. There was a locked set of doors, down one flight of stairs. He left that until the end. Going down farther, he started taking anything that seemed valuable. Golden statuettes of Grimm, jewels encrusted in larger statues and on the frames of paintings. He might've been eccentric, but he lived in a very sparsely decorated loft. No need to...exude wealth, even if he did have it.

Doing a last sweep of the house (even picking up a fancy looking black bowler hat) he stopped at the locked doors. He already had quite the treasure, enough for his fence to provide a good enough fund for her mother. He probably should get out with what he had already, but his instincts took over. He picked the lock, and entered the room.

The room was pitch black...and smelled strongly of iron. That had his nerves on end. It seemed to be a big bedroom, as he had imagined. The owners of the mansion probably lived here. He pulled a monocle looking thing from his pant pocket. The lens gave the wearer the ability to see as well as a Faunus in the dark, perfect for Special Forces personnel...and thieves.

He wished he hadn't put it on, though.

The scene he now bore witness seemed straight out of a horror film, because in the massive bed in the middle of the room, were two bloody corpses.

_Holy Dust_, he thought. _What have I just gotten into?_

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><p><strong>What did you think? Good? Bad? Meh? Cat's out of the bag, now. I think Neo is a psychopath, and I'll be playing with that idea a lot. I also think Roman is...well he's no hero. He has a bit of goodness in him. Just a little, really. I'd appreciate reviews, as I'm still very new to this and I wish to improve :D expect more soon-ish! - Darthkvzn<strong>


	2. The Experiment

**Welcome to Risk of Rain's second chapter! First of all, a huge thank you to any and all readers. Writing for older fandoms, I never expected the reception this has gotten so far. Here's hoping it gets even better with time! Secondly, thank you for all the reviews. Whether a "This is great, continue writing" or a full on constructive criticism, you have no idea how much it means to know you took the time to give me the feedback I crave and need; I hope you don't stop doing it. Without further ado, enjoy! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>There had been a time when she could be regarded as a regular girl. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a pretty face, she could even be called cute. Some would pity her, as she'd never be able to laugh or even cry. Mommy didn't, though. She cared little for her, other than her "potential", whatever that meant. Daddy promised he cared, but the way he spoke of her as something, instead of someone, when he thought she wasn't listening, should've been her first hint that her life would be <em>much<em> different than that of the few children she'd met before. Then again, that was back when she had any friends.

Of course, daddy dearest didn't let those friendships happen for too long. Necessity is the mother of invention, they say, and he lived (and died) by that statement. 'Humanity has only survived because we do anything and everything to survive', he'd said, right before subjecting a toddler to…the experiment, one that would kill most adults.

She'd survived, alright. But she'd come out _changed_. Never mind the physical changes, of which there were quite a few. She saw the world…differently. Where there were friends before, now there were obstacles. Those that would be her detractors were now marked as enemies. And enemies need not last long.

She became familiar with blood after that.

A lot of bribes later, it was decided she would have to be confined to her father's mansion. And so she'd spent Dust knows how many years being molded to "perfection". She'd mellowed, as he wanted; at least she no longer had the instantaneous desire to murder everyone who looked at her funny, so naturally, she was thought a success. Little did daddy know that she'd just been biding her time.

Tonight she'd become familiar with how hard blood was to clean off.

After a long shower, she pondered just what she was going to do. No mommy, certainly no daddy…she needed no money to survive, and frankly, she didn't care for anything she could've used from the mansion. Maybe she should just go into the wild for a while; the creatures of Grimm certainly posed no threat to her. She was a big girl now, and she handled her special abilities better than a huntress ever could. Oh, well. She had some time to think, still. Nobody remembered her existence, and nobody cared about her dear parents, so no one would be visiting her house anytime soon.

Or so she'd thought.

To be fair, the guy was _very_ stealthy. Anyone else would've just missed him, but she wasn't _just _anyone. He was perched on the rafters of her room, silent as can be. The only indication she'd had was a very muted sound, probably his breathing. She had to find out as much information about him as quickly as possible, and she knew he was watching…so she dropped the towel she'd been covering herself with. _That_ got a reaction. Not much noise, granted, but the way he averted his eyes told her that the man wasn't here to hurt her. Anyone cold enough to try and kill or disable her wouldn't have cared about her state of undress. Logical, since she was kept a secret. The man was a thief, then, and a very good one, at that. He was well dressed, which meant he was confident in his ability to remain undiscovered. And clearly he was stealthy even with his…_vibrant_ attire. She was curious why he'd want to steal anything from this house. There were a few valuable things here and there, but nothing outstanding. Mommy and daddy had never cared about opulence, and what little they had they'd received as gifts. Surely the thief knew that? Maybe he'd already stolen from all the other rich people. That would make a bit more sense.

Regardless of his intention, the intruder hadn't exactly been invited in, and she knew she had to get him out of the house. It wouldn't do for him to go into a murder scene. She checked her weapon, pretending to clean up what looked like an ordinary parasol, in truth made out of a material stronger than any metal. Satisfied with its state, she pretended to fall asleep. Just when she considered her breathing to be appropriate for that of a sleeping person, the man dropped from his perch.

She was impressed, honestly. The only indication she got that the thief landed was a soft puff of air, presumably from the effort. The man wisely left the room, not bothering to search for any of her valuables. She supposed he might've checked already, but the room wasn't disturbed at all.

She debated what to do with the man. She had nothing personal against thieves. Dust knows they at least had a more adventurous life than she did. And they generally didn't hurt anyone. The guy didn't take advantage of her even when she was a clear target…even if she would've been an impossible one.

The thief was definitely good, though. She didn't hear any of his rummaging for about half an hour…until now. _He's trying to enter the locked bedroom_, she thought. Sighing, she got up. No need to wear anything other than her nightgown. Depending on his reaction, it might help as a distraction…and she'd be foolish to admit she wasn't slightly curious about him. After such a long time hidden, only knowing about the outside from what daddy told her, she really couldn't deny that she wanted to find out just what she was escaping into.

Barefoot, parasol behind her back, and taking advantage of her innocent looks, she walked towards the room, her ever-changing eyes full of mirth. People always talked about fate, didn't they? Whether he expected (and wanted) to or not, he was her ticket out of the mansion.

_I wonder if he's handsome?_

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><p><strong>So there you have it. It's a lot shorter, as I realized thanks to your reviews that I could've given you some of Roman's background instead of most of it. I usually start my stories with it, but this story is kind of different to my usual ones. I hope I did it better with Neo. I gave some hints, instead of the whole thing. Rest assured, I do have the background thought out. What did you think about her attitude? Did I accurately portray her as a slightly psychopathic person? I personally loved the towel thing. It seemed to me like something she would do, y'know?<strong>

**And now, a new thing to me, addressing reviews (consider everyone thanked, so as to not repeat it with everyone):**

**Neapolitan: Hopefully it is! Stay tuned for more.**

**Anonemuss14: Can't say what their relationship will be yet. This story takes place about 5 to 7 years before canon. I estimate Neo to be barely 18-19, and Roman about 23-24.**

**Guest: As you know, there isn't much to go on with these characters yet. I'm glad you like the portrayal so far.**

**SquigglyCrunch: I'll try not to give spoilers anymore! I got a bit excited with this story, huh.**

**Mr Ruffles: I hope I updated soon enough. Real life is unfortunately still a thing, so you can expect one update every week, hopefully two.**

**Guardianboy: Rest assured, I will continue!**

**Lord Revan Flame: Here's more!**

**FaerieDragons: You pretty much nailed it. The rough exterior is _really_ rough, though. Lots to chip through.**

**l3largus: Foreshadowing, hehehe, maybe yes, maybe no. And yes, villains without a proper background aren't really good characters, most of the time. It works for elder horrors and the like. They need no reason. But humans usually do.**

**Combatflaps: I hope this chapter wasn't as dry! I apologize for the infodump, definitely. I still have a lot to learn in regards to pacing and plotlines, this is my 4th story after all. I really like integrating the small nods and theories that both the producers and the audience glint from the show. Definitely playing with that now and later on.**

**And finally, a huge shoutout to Aegis-Story, who partly helped come up with this story. I hope you like it! - Darthkvzn**


	3. The Girl With The Shifting Eyes

**I'm pleased to welcome you to the third chapter of Risk of Rain!. Two things, ladies and gentlemen. I'm really sorry it's taken so long to upload. Unfortunately, real life is still a thing, and my writing habits were getting out of hand and kind of unhealthy. Taking it easier means less updates, but hopefully better chapters (and a better day to day life for me). The other thing, a big shoutout to Aegis-Story, who is kind of my unofficial beta reader. Mate's an awesome author, so go look at that profile people! Without further ado, I hope you enjoy. - Darthkvzn**_  
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><p><em>Oh, Dust, oh, Dust, oh, Dust!<em>

Roman may not have been a stranger to death or corpses, but it isn't like he saw them every day. He'd personally never killed anyone, but he'd lived on the streets for a couple of years. Worse, he'd lived on the outskirts of Vale, so he'd seen the victims of human, faunus and Grimm murderous intent alike.

While the scene before him wasn't as gruesome as old man Jenkins when he became Beowulf dinner, it was certainly bloody. His sharp mind took in the detail. On a huge bed in the center of the room, a couple lay. On the left, a stern looking woman with brown hair, her neck sliced open, her nightgown stained crimson. It would appear that she'd been killed while still asleep. The gentleman at her side, however, had obviously woken up. His features were softer, but marred by age and fear. He had probably tried to guard himself against the attacker, and failed miserably as his chest had been stabbed, repeatedly. Blood splattered everywhere, and soaked into the sheets, Roman was at a loss as to what to do now.

_Right, Torchwick_, he thought, _keep your head together. The girl went to sleep, and you've been quiet. Back away from the room slowly, and then run like an Ursa is trying to steal your sweets._

How could this have happened? Had the little colorful girl done this? There had been no signs of forced entry, no evidence of violence outside of this horrid scene, and he'd been thorough when sweeping the house. The girl had clearly had the opportunity, as she'd been outside the room for a while. Judging by the drying blood, this had happened very recently, no more than a couple of hours ago. _The girl had looked so sweet, though_…_the umbrella,_ he thought. It had to be some kind of weapon, a bladed one by the looks of it. He'd heard the whirring noises, and his own Melodic Cudgel had a hidden shiv inside the handle grappling hook mechanism. It wasn't unthinkable to assume hers might work similarly. He didn't have any training in detecting her aura, unfortunately. She could be a powerhouse and he wouldn't even know it. _But then…if she were that powerful…she may have…noticed something..._

The door behind him creaked.

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><p>Having skipped merrily down towards her parent's room, she stopped to check herself. Barefoot, and wearing nothing but her nightgown, she thought herself cute. Maybe even alluring! The hem of the white garment barely reached her knees, like the sultry characters in those books she'd stolen from mother wore. <em>He better appreciate the show<em>, she thought. _Should I tell him my name? Oh wait, how will I even talk with him? Will he even want to?_

She chuckled at that last one. Like he'd have a choice. Oh, he might struggle, but she'd already made her decision. Assuming the thief survived the next five minutes, she'd likely be sticking with him for the foreseeable future.

There was some value to the shock he must have been going through right about now. The poor guy had walked into a little bit of a mess. Oh, how she wished she could've seen his reaction! The average human reacted badly to blood, and there had been quite a bit of it. Regardless of his attitude, she was completely certain she could handle the guy. Thieves tended towards the flight response, instead of fighting, not that it made much of a difference. Not many would be able to take on her and live to tell the tale. None had before, and it that wasn't likely to change anytime soon, should the thief be foolish enough to attack.

She paused at the doors. Here's where most people would feel nervous. She felt…anticipation. She wanted to know what was going to happen next. The butterflies weren't there, but she liked to think that she was about to start her own adventure, like the books she'd steal from mother.

_Oh, what joyous anguish awaits us!_

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><p>On the bright side, apparently no one else was inside the house, so he hadn't lost his touch and missed anyone. All three members of the household (living or otherwise) had been accounted for.<p>

On the other hand, the obvious culprit of a double homicide was now standing in front of him, and had just turned on the light. Getting rid of the visual aid, he braced himself for an attack that didn't happen.

Forgoing the sort of "way too young for you" face, the woman was certainly beautiful. He'd had a glimpse before, of course, but this was like seeing art in person. You could see many pictures of it, but nothing beat the real thing. Now Roman liked to think he was a romantic; he viewed life as flamboyantly as he dressed. There was a silver lining to everything, and if there wasn't one, he could force it out of anything.

So, murderer. Great looking, half-naked woman. See? Silver lining.

_Think, Roman. You've gotten out of every bad situation so far. Let's not ruin that by joining the seniors in bed_, he snorted to himself.

-"Well, hello there" –he said, as steadily as possible. He gave a shaky smirk, his nerves still frayed, his thoughts working overtime. His mindset that of a practiced thief, he took in everything about her as quickly as he could. She really was very short. That he noticed that first was saying a lot, considering the full detail he could see in her hair now that she was clearly visible. White streaks added detail to her predominantly pink mane and a brown side crowned her delicate looking face. Thin and delicate brows topped wide eyes, their pupils matching the colors of the hair above them. A small nose and a thin-lipped mouth finished the design of her expressionless appearance. The girl remained impassive, as if she hadn't heard his attempt at courtesy.

Worry started to seep through Roman's thoughts. There was something much too unnerving about her attitude, or lack thereof. Clearly the girl was capable of terrible things, but she looked innocent to the point of being adorable.

-"You're not giving me much to go on, here, sweetie. I realize we may not see much eye to eye, as I did just rob you blind, but I feel like we can come to an understanding, which I'm guessing _they_ failed to." –he joked, signaling to the mess behind him.

The girl cocked her head, as if she didn't really understand what he was saying. Then she blinked.

Well, that was new. He certainly couldn't do that with his own irises. Or maybe he could switch them around, but he never knew because they were the same _Dust-damned_ _color._

Eyes still switched around, she focused on the scene behind him. Her eyes narrowed, blinked, turned back to "normal", and then turned…white. Cool, just great. Her new eyes weren't full white. Like before, the only thing changing was the actual iris. It would have been interesting to dwell on that, if not for the fact that the girl was now angry.

-"Whoa, m'dear. No need to get angry! I…appreciate your handiwork; very painful looking. I'd appreciate it if we could keep this civil and blood-less, alright? Dust knows the room's seen enough" –he said, his tone panicked but conciliatory, his palms open to hopefully convey peaceful intentions.

Looking back, he could have probably just been patient for a few seconds, and the girl would have calmed down. His mistake was being hasty and taking a step forward. In his defense, he knew nothing about negotiating.

The girl turned back towards him fast enough to give him whiplash just from watching her, blinking as she did. Mismatched brown and pink again, and on the opposite sides to their respective hair matches. Focusing on him again, she narrowed her eyes and the eyes matched her locks after another blink. The girl then brought a parasol forward seemingly from nowhere, and a sharp point (which smelled strongly of cleaning fluid) was now at his throat, fast as lightning.

They say when near death, your life flashes before your eyes. Roman could now confirm it was completely false. All he could see where the pure-white eyes of her soon to be killer, his famous wit run dry.

_Note to_ _self, _he thought, _if I survive this, I'm practicing my negotiation skills._

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><p><strong>Hopefully, I did a good enough job with different character styles that the lack of subtitles for who is talking is justified. If you didn't get it, it's Roman, then Neo, then Roman again. The story is picking up! The meeting has happened, and it's the disaster that everybody expected! Fret not, for there have been worse beginnings than this one (though not by much) to other person-to-person relationships. How this will turn out is for me to know, and you to read, eventually. Be back in a week! - Darthkvzn.<strong>


	4. The Deadly Women In His Life

**Before anything else, let me just say, WOW. This has gotten a ton of views, actually breaking my record for most in a single day. Must be that it's a popular fandom right now, but still feels awesome. Also, I'm very proud to say that if you're looking for Neo stories, this is on the first page for K to T audiences by criteria of favorites and follows. You guys are the best, and I'm extremely happy. Without any further ado, please enjoy chapter four! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>Being the biological equivalent of a killing machine, she had to admit she didn't really know how to deal with people on a day to day basis. She would later grudgingly consider that she probably should work on her people skills, or at least the ones that didn't involve a bloody, painful death.<p>

Of course, that would involve her having to constantly deal with Pink and White. Brown was mostly alright. She was the part of her that was still...human. She was the one that managed feelings and basic needs and skills; she was very intense, and easily excitable. Pink was dangerous. Her realm included combat, both offense and defense. Advanced skills and sensory input all went through her, and her analytic nature either allowed a situation to happen, or completely obliterated it. She was quite the cynic, too.

White, in both Brown and Pink's opinion, was completely and utterly insane. With all of Pink's grasp of combat tactics, but none of her threat assessment, she was someone to be avoided at all costs, lest she take over and run rampant, unstoppable. Both Daddy and Mother knew White very well, and look how _they_ ended up.

She didn't mean to almost kill the guy. After all, she wanted to make a good first impression, or at least one that would take his interest away from the currently rotting corpses behind him. The guy was _much_ smarter than he gave him credit for, initially. He had no particular tells, and he seemed very honest in his attempt at peaceful interaction. Still, she wasn't sure why he'd pointed out her "work" to her. His tone suggested humor, so maybe he was attempting to get on her good side. Regular people must have a twisted sense of humor, then. Maybe she wouldn't be as much of a misfit as she expected?

Oh, right, she was about to skewer the guy. She was fairly sure regular people didn't tend to murder people all the time.

_Oh, screw being a regular girl. You have no limitations! The old man and the hag are dead! Go nuts, it'll be fun. The guy isn't even that good looking; let's just slash carrot top over there and find some more blood to spill!_ –said White.

This meant trouble. White normally stayed quiet (or growling), waiting for a good moment to try and wrest control from Brown and Pink. That she felt the freedom to speak up meant she was succeeding in her coup. Whenever White started to gain dominance, her perception became distorted, but Brown knew what the maniac wanted. Brown felt repulsion at White most of the time, but this was really too much. Pink just rolled her eyes. She felt no disgust towards bloodshed, but this was senseless. Clearly this man was intelligent and could provide a viable exit strategy.

White was lost in bloodlust, and way out of line, Pink decided. As the dominant one, she decided it was time to banish the manic persona before she was foolish enough to challenge her. White was angered, but she really didn't have all that much power against Pink, so she retreated, though not before roaring her defiance. Her sensory input went back to normal. Pink rolled her eyes again. She didn't dislike White, but she hated being deprived from her senses. Like a cloud fogged up her input. She shouldn't allow these interruptions anymore, but she knew that the longer that White remained away from control, the more power she'd get, and then she'd have a lot more trouble pushing her away.

"Hello? Lady, I appreciate the combat practice, but could you please decide whether you're gonna kill me or not?" –she heard from somewhere in front of her.

_Sigh,_ she thought, _we really need to work on our people skills._

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><p>While the multi-colored girl didn't seem to even break a sweat over the last fifteen minutes, Roman felt as if he'd run to Vacuo and back non-stop. Such was the price of fighting for your life with an unstoppable, mute lunatic.<p>

At first he thought the girl was just very, very quiet. But as soon as the fighting had started, he was proven wrong. The girl made absolutely no sound. No grunts from effort, no witty comments, no death threats. The only sound that came from her was the swoosh of her parasol and her clothes being ripped to pieces.

Now, you'd think fighting a naked woman would be hot, or at least slightly arousing. Media with these sorts of scenarios tended to lead you on to the idea that fighting nude ended up with not much fighting being done after all. Well, whoever had written _Faunus gone wild_ had clearly never met short, pale and deadly here. Her nightgown was now little more than rags, the soft fabric not meant for fighting at all (Roman was at least a little proud that he'd scored one or two near hits), and the girl either wasn't aware that her more private bodily parts weren't private at all anymore, or she didn't much care. Roman wasn't sure, but he thought it might be a mix of the two. So, while he tended towards being a ladies' man, he had never been less interested in the female form than now, barely evading death and feeling his strength wane with each passing second. He was running out of both time and space.

_Am I really that out of shape?_ He thought. _I haven't really fought anyone in a long time, but I haven't stopped practicing, and I'm getting the Dust kicked off of me by someone who doesn't even look slightly tired._

In his defense, he'd been sorely unprepared. The girl had done the thing with her eyes, then pointed a blade at his throat. He'd been prepared for violence when he met the dearly departed, though not for speed. Big mistake: never underestimate a smaller opponent.

Then, the girl broke. Well, not literally. She was very much whole. But she remained fully motionless for about five minutes. Roman had had the opportunity to grab Melodic Cudgel and try and slip past crazy no-pants.

He should've tried the window.

He tried to walk past her, and that didn't work out at _all_. Quick as lightning, the girl had stopped him from walking out the door, and the only reason he hadn't been outright decapitated was an almost unbelievably quick reflex response, deflecting her blade, though not enough to avoid a cut. He was now the grudging bearer of a diagonal cut under his left lower eyelid.

From there, it had been all about guarding and deflecting slashes, stabs and all around avoiding becoming a Torch-kebab. He had long since stopped worrying about his loot, and they'd abandoned the bloody bedroom some 15 minutes ago. While this wasn't his idea of a nice tour of the house, he didn't have much of a choice. Destruction followed in their wake, the acrobatic girl jumping, pirouetting and vaulting around the house. Roman learned two things: the girl was heavier than she looked, and she had an uncanny sense for avoiding damage. Roman may not have been the best fighter, but he was a great shot. The girl cared nothing for his aim, though, either avoiding a shot by a hair's width, or outright blocking it with her parasol. That thing must be made of something harder than Atlasian military grade alloy. Not a single scratch marred the Dust-damned thing.

He really was tired, now, and slowly being driven into a corner. At best, he could coax five more minutes of fighting from himself. He grimly realized that that was a very optimistic scenario. Soon, he'd make a mistake, and his slowly growing empire would fall, headless. Or worse, Denari would take over. _You're such a lucky man, Roman_, he thought sardonically, _but you should really start sharing the bloodthirsty women in your life with others. Probably not healthy to keep them around._

He was *this* close to resigning to his fate, he really was. Then the onslaught just…stopped. The girl furrowed her brow, and her lifeless, white eyes got…clouded. She closed her eyes, and when they opened, they were again mismatched. Roman was pretty good at reading expressions, but this needed no thought. The girl looked confused out of her mind. That might actually be the case, he thought. _The eyes are the key, aren't they?_ When they'd both been white, she'd become a killing machine. When confused, they were mismatched both in color and in relation to her hair. When she'd been…pleasant, they had matched her hair. Talk about split personalities…

Oh. _That_ might have something to do with it.

The girl still looked confused, looking at him, at his weapon, then back at her, her eyes widening at her state of undress. She held her weapon in front of her eyes, and caught sight of a bit of his blood. She then blinked again, and her eye colors went back to their respective sides. She no longer looked confused, but rather…disappointed. She looked at her exposed body and mimicked a soundless sigh. Then she looked at him. The girl raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms, though her body language was clearly saying _"Well, what now?"_ instead of _"Don't look, you perv"._

-"I don't mean to be rude, but, uh, could you explain to me what the hell just happened? I already figured you're not fond of speech, so I don't care if you need to play charades, but I'm really tired, and you're pretty deadly and I'd really like some assurance that the moment I turn around you won't stab me in the back." –he huffed, sitting on half of a remaining sofa.

The girl pressed her lips together, and grabbed her hair. She grabbed some pink with her right hand, and some brown with her left. She smashed them together several times, and then grabbed a few strands of white, tying it around two locks of different colored hair.

-"So, what I got from that is that there's a big mess up your noggin. I counted three, and I guess that brown and pink don't get along, and white is the only reason you haven't fallen apart?" –he said, tentatively. The girl narrowed her eyes, and brought her hand up, making the universal motion of "more or less". Then she grabbed the white strands again, and drew her blade, mimicking beheading herself, while looking at him expectantly.

-"White is the reason you fall apart, isn't it" –he said, deadpan. The girl smiled and nodded. "So, while we're having such a pleasant, naked woman to battered, bruised, yet fantastically dressed man, do you at least have a name? –he asked, playing with his cuffs while eyeing her warily.

Rainbow woman looked up, as if trying to remember something and then got excited. She promptly ran up the stairs, leaving Roman blank, and shreds of cloth behind. Before he could even formulate a good escape plan, the now giddy woman appeared in front of him, with her hands behind her back. Then she presented him with a very large book. The book was styled like a creature of Grimm, with red and white details on an otherwise stark black design. It had no text on the cover, but the girl motioned for him to open it. Inside, in very elegant looking font, was an inscription that read:

EXPERIMENT 002 – CODENAME: NEOPOLITAN

Under that line, a short phrase said:

_"Neos for New. Polis for Many. Tantus for Greatness."_

-"Neopolitan? That your name?" –he asked, and the girl nodded enthusiastically. Roman pondered the name for a few seconds. –"Kind of an odd name, actually. I'd rather call you Neo, if you don't mind. Short and sweet, just like you".

The girl's eyes widened. Then she smiled broadly and started jumping up and down.

Ok, so the naked girl may or may not be slightly sexy, killing machine or not.

-"Stop, stop, stop. I get that you're excited, _Neo, _but you're also completely unclothed. Here, have the jacket, I have a few dozen. And for Dust's sake, _button it up!"_

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><p><strong>I'm not even going to lie, that was a ton of fun to write. After three and a half chapters, Neo and Roman have been properly introduced, regardless of clothing state. Don't mistake Neo's nudeness for her trying really hard to be beguiling. No spoilers, but her being naked is pretty much a non-issue. Sure, she was trying to look alluring, but she doesn't really know how or why. Remember where she gets her info on the world from! <strong>

**We now have a very good idea of what Neo's head looks like, and we have some information on why she's a psychopath. The three colors are a major character detail, so that's why they're the names we'll be calling her split personalities.**

**Blink and you'll miss it, did you see the name of the OC?**

**Finally, I do realize that I mixed greek and latin words at the end, there. I really wanted a full latin motif for her three "names", but I couldn't find a good latin word. The real issue here is that Remnant quite obviously isn't Earth, so why the old world names? It's not a mystery, so I'll let you know. It's a parallel I've drawn for our own world. Scientists tend to use scientific terms, after all. I'll go into further detail on the next chapter.**

**That's it! I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love it if you could review. It helps me improve my writing, boosts my spirits when writing and makes this story more appealing to undecided readers. I'd love to spread the love with other Neo and/or Roman fans! - Darthkvzn**


	5. The Decision, pt 1

**Hello, everyone! Right on the dot, here's the next update. If this feels like it's lacking a bit towards the end, it's because it is. As the name of the chapter suggests, this is a two part segment; the second part is probably going to go up later today or tomorrow. I'm writing it along with this note, right now. Stay tuned for more, review if you'd be so kind, please! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>If Roman had wavered in his faith of humanity before, the book in his hands had completely destroyed what remained of it.<p>

The specifics of it eluded him, of course. He was a thief, not an egghead. But he got the gist of it, alright. The tome was divided in three sections. Neos, Polis and Tantus. _Kind of on the nose_, he thought.

The first section felt like an invasion of the girl's privacy. It detailed very explicitly a transformation process that she'd apparently gone through when she was barely a toddler. Anatomical diagrams from before and after the procedure detailed injections of what appeared to be an experimental Black Dust into every bone in her body, the intended effect being a nearly unbreakable skeleton. Whoever wrote the book had gone into detail, describing everything from the pain levels to the piercing screams the little brown haired girl had uttered. After that, a prototype synthetic Dust crystal had been embedded into her brain stem: this supposedly would enhance her senses and her combat prowess. Created by studying the effects natural kinds of Dust had on bodies infused with the elemental substance, then modified to make the effects much more thorough and intense. _It worked, alright,_ thought Roman.

Indeed it had, though not without a cost. The girl had actually died, the crystal dissolving and spreading inside her brain, obliterating her synapses and scarring the brain tissue. And then, like the undead from horror books, she'd come back to life…changed. Her hair had shifted, her eyes had mismatched irises, and her blinking shifted them uncontrollably. The scientists who tried to approach her had only seconds to regret their boldness, as Neo ripped their throats out and broke their bones. The descriptions were nothing compared to the grainy image of a little girl bathed in blood; Roman nearly lost his composure.

The experiment was deemed a success, a minor footnote suggesting mental conditioning to curb her murderous tendencies. Roman was utterly sickened at whoever had had a hand in doing this to a little girl.

Other than that, the chapters detailed many other facts about the girls' anatomy. Her age, which was about 4 years shorter than his own. How her height was a byproduct of a damaged pituitary gland. The anomalies of her hair (they'd tried shaving it off and it had grown back within a day), her approximate strength and durability ratings and the fact that as a result of the experiment, she was now unable to conceive children.

He stealthily looked towards her. The girl was now somewhat covered, his jacket proving much too large for her tiny size. She was cleaning the blade of her parasol, completely disinterested in what Roman might be doing. Or at least that's what she looked like. Knowing what he now did, Neo was probably aware of what paragraph he was reading. Shuddering slightly, Roman continued to read.

The Polis section of the volume was comprised of a complete mental analysis by at least three psychologists, two of which had been murdered by Neo. The results were consistent: Neo's eyes were the key to understanding her split personality disorder. Roman scoffed at this. _Destroy a girl from the inside out and you have the nerve to call her a glorified nutjob._

An in-depth study had been made of her brainwaves, responses to stress and set scenarios. Roman understood very little of this, but they seemed to reach the same conclusion that he had now understood. At least three people lived inside Neo's head, each deadlier than the last. The remaining psychologist had suggested the girl be terminated, citing that she'd never follow orders. The girl simply couldn't be controlled, a veritable force of nature that, while powerful, was just as likely to attack enemies as her "handlers". Whoever was the director of the project had thanked the man for his opinions and fired him shortly thereafter. A _completely_ unrelated note at the end had marked the man as missing two weeks after that.

The last section was short; that didn't mean it was any less infuriating. One boast after another, it narrated how Neo was the perfect black ops asset, unleashing her against tough yet key targets, and dealing with the fallout afterwards. She'd never actually been sent though. Apparently all funding had been cut from their little project after Neo had lost control on a test field deployment. In a kindergarten. The details were too horrifying, but suffice it to say, Roman did not read anything else. He should've known those crazy bastards had done it.

The funding had come from the military council at Atlas. And the intended targets weren't only the creatures of Grimm, although he supposed those damn jarheads couldn't tell the difference between them and Faunus anyway.

That was the last straw. He'd never had much respect for the government, but this really was too hard to believe. Apparently, Neo didn't much care for authority either, seeing as how she'd murdered the two people who'd allowed this to happen. A decision was then made.

-"Hey Neo? What do you say we ditch this place and find you somewhere decent to stay for a while?" –he said, making an effort not to show his anger. If the girl picked up on that, she didn't show it, her only response a smile and a nod. After a quick trip to her room, she came back with a small duffel bag. She looked at him, and tugged at the jacket, then pointed at the bag.

-"Your clothes? Good girl. I assume you're now at least wearing underwear _which you're not going to show me_ and that you're carrying your own hygiene supplies, because I am _not_ sharing my toothbrush with you." –he said, and Neo just answered by narrowing her eyes and grinning slyly.

The trip back was silent, and not just because one of the two was mute. Roman had a lot to think about, and his encounter with one of his goons had only worsened his brooding mood. He'd ordered one of his more inconspicuous vehicles be delivered somewhere near the old mansion, and the driver's jaw had almost hit the ground when he saw Neo. She didn't seem to be paying much attention, instead marveling at things that were as commonplace to him as they were new to her. The lackey seemed to be torn between ogling her and pulling out his gun. Roman wasn't as slow to decide.

-"Perry, the girl is with me. I'd appreciate you not making any threatening moves. I don't think I'd be inclined to hold her back if she decided to respond in kind." He said, amiably enough. He quickly changed his attitude, though, as he pointed the tip of his cane between his eyes, his expression menacing. "I would also ask you that you say nothing about her. Her response would not be the one you'd be worrying about, and then, not for very long. Now be a dear and open the trunk for the lady. And if you stare at her for longer than is absolutely necessary, I'll be the one driving." –he growled. Sufficiently cowed, the henchman helped Neo with her bag, and opened the door for them both. Neo was awed at the car, making Roman roll his eyes. She was understandably distracted by everything. Too many new things, not enough time. He realized he wasn't the best person around to show her the sights, what with him being a wanted man, but he vowed to at least introduce her to the world and show her the ropes. What she wanted, he didn't really know, but she obviously wanted to follow him. He had to get through the speech barrier, and fast. Finding her intentions would help him understand how to better help Neo.

The trip took about half an hour, not from the distance, but from the traveling protocols used to make it harder for police forces to track Roman. He could buy them off, of course, but being cautious saved him some Lien for a rainy day.

His house wasn't the largest or the prettiest. It was functional and practical, located on a small private property, with all of his henchmen living around him so he didn't have to worry about prying eyes. The lads had a vested interest in keeping the neighborhood intact and safe; their families lived with them. He was well liked among them, their line of work never spoken about but a secret to nobody. Roman was a little worried that Neo might be hostile to the few Faunus in the small community, but he calmed himself. The book mentioned no outright hatred from Neo for that particular species, despite being made to kill them. He'd certainly be cautious, in any case.

When he entered the house, he noticed something was amiss. Nothing was missing, so theft wasn't it. A magazine was an inch off, the remote was upside down. Someone had been here, and more importantly, either was too much of an amateur, which couldn't be the case, since he or she had clearly breached his house, or someone wanted to grab his attention.

The slight whiff of a very well-known perfume confirmed his suspicions. A glance at Neo showed her very tense and looking at the ceiling. He grabbed her attention, and motioned for her to wait where she was. She crossed her arms, but otherwise stayed put. Roman checked Melodic Cudgel for ammo, though he was pretty sure he didn't need it, and he went up the stairs.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he was received by a knife tip an inch from his throat, and a sultry voice. _Oh boy, you're getting predictable,_ he thought.

-"Hello, Roman." –she said.

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><p><strong>Do you recognize it? That's a big ol' cliffhanger! Who do you think this woman is? She clearly has a bit of a connection to Roman, so what does this mean for our dear, mismatched couple? You'll have to wait a bit to find out! Ohhh I'm so excited! Please review if you'd be so kind! I'd love to share this story as much as possible! - Darthkvzn<strong>


	6. The Decision, pt 2

**I'll be honest with you: this is the "make or break" chapter of this fic. Here it is, as promised, within half a week. Enjoy, and if you don't, tell me why in a review! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>Years ago, a young, inexperienced ex-huntsman in training took to the streets. He had the skills, the drive, and the means, but he lacked the knowledge of Vale's seedy underworld. The Faunus currently in front of him, threatening to slit his throat, had broken him in, in more ways than safe to discuss around children.<p>

Denari Castrere was undoubtedly beautiful. As tall as he was now, the creeping burn mark on the left side of her neck complemented the mechanical arm that was perhaps well concealed, but stiff enough that even if you didn't outright know it was there (which Roman did), you'd suspect it existed. It certainly added 'intimidating' to her description, if the chillingly cold voice wasn't enough. She had long, dirty blonde hair, though a few white hairs were starting to show. Her eyes were half-lidded, as always, though they looked no less threatening. A beret crowned her head, but Roman knew it wasn't a fashion statement; sharp dog ears were hidden beneath. Her face was somewhat longer than average, her features flawless except for faint scars on the left cheek. If he didn't know any better, Roman would think she'd suffered some kind of accident that had heavily punished that particular side of her.

Unfortunately, he knew better. He'd caused the explosion himself. _Should've finished the job when you could, Roman, _he cursed inwardly.

-"Denari, long time no see. Though I have to say, you're looking better than last time I did see you, love." –he said, coolly. He was playing with fire, but he was fairly certain the woman was angry enough not to have noticed Melodic Cudgel subtly pointed at her center of mass, his finger ready to trigger the shot.

The woman in question had dangerously narrowed eyes, the dagger in her hand firmly in her grasp. He mentally chastised himself. She wasn't as reluctant to harm him as he might've thought. Love was a fickle thing, he supposed. Not that he'd ever actually fallen for her; not like she had for him.

-"Torchwick. I'd kill you now, pup, but I'm not suicidal. I know your lackeys would be on me faster than I could possibly do any lasting damage. I'm highly tempted to at least take out that lovely voice of yours before I run, though. Dust knows there's a lot to get even about." –she spat, venomously. _Mother always said I'd die by female hand, I guess_, he thought, amused. She wasn't going to harm him, so he relaxed. The only real reason Denari still lived was that Roman pitied her, and valued the advice that had allowed him to usurp her own little corner of the criminal world. Her boldness in coming here was troubling, though. She'd taught him not to "jump without a good enough shoe to land on", so either her two year grief and hate had stewed to a boil, or she had a plan. _Grimmoire hath no fury like a female scorned, _he thought dryly.

-"Ah, Deni, you'd miss my voice and you know it. I know I would! Besides, there's no reason this has to end in violence, and I do believe my shot would be faster than your stab and or slice." –he said, airily. _Check and mate, my dear, _he thought smugly.

The older woman blinked and looked down. She grumbled, but pulled her dagger back, putting it back inside a sheath in her bare thigh. Roman cringed a little at the sight of bruised, almost purple skin. _Typical of her. Take advantage of everything you have, be it a blade or an exposed bit of skin_. She was wearing a brown leather coat, a simple black vest beneath it. A knee length skirt, currently pulled up, and a pair of black army boots finished her outfit.

-"I don't know why you'd turn away; after all, you've seen everything I've got to offer, and the changes since then were caused by you. Fair enough, you witty bastard. I'm not going to start anything. I'm actually here to meet your new girl." –she said, a smug expression apparent on her face. "Word on the street is you found the next recipient of the 'Most colorful person in Remnant' award. I'd like to talk business with both of you. I've gotta say, though, I didn't know you liked them that young."

Roman's face was carefully composed, but his narrowed eyes betrayed the anger he was now feeling. _She did always know how to get under my skin,_ he thought, grudgingly.

-"Yes, well, that's what happens when you're stuck with a boring old hag like you, you lose perspective. Now if you'd be so kind, would you hurry up and do what you came here to do? I have a tattletale or two to torture." –he said with a false smile. Denari chuckled, though the mirth didn't quite reach her eyes. _Poor woman still hasn't gotten over it,_ Roman thought with a hint of pity. _Can't say I blame her, though._

-"Language, Roman. Did I not teach you anything? Anyway, I appreciate your drive in keeping your subjects in line, but it isn't necessary this time. I've had my men keep watch on you, and guess what? They found quite the interesting scene inside a certain mansion. Now, I know outright murder is not your style, _as you've made quite clear_, but it would appear it certainly is hers. My, my, she looks young enough to be my daughter…though I certainly wouldn't let her dress like that." –she was looking behind him now, and Roman knew with dreaded certainty that Neo had gone up the stairs, too. Never let it be said he wasn't a gentleman, or really, really, cautious, as he moved aside, having little idea how Neo might react to the older woman.

-"Since you two seem to want to meet so much, Neo, this is Denari Castrere, Denari, this is Neopolitan. Deni here introduced me to the less-than-legal aspects of life, and she lost more than just her arm for her trouble. Though it seems that she's doing pretty well, these days. I didn't know she had men anymore." -he turned to her. "As I recall, I took them from you when you failed to stop my little coup d'état." –he said.

Denari tried to be charming, but the scars and scowl really made it difficult. She ignored Roman and walked closer to Neo, extending a gloved, mechanical hand.

-"Hello there, Neo. Don't listen to the ungrateful ginger, please. All that is past news, and my offer is for our shared future. I'll be blunt with you; you've got talent. In my line of work, I could use someone like you for my less savory affairs. I'm not afraid to get my own hands dirty, but you seem like the sort to relish in that particular brand of filth. You'll never reach your potential with carrot-top here, though. He settles for petty robberies and heists." –she said, honey dripping from her voice. A_ny sweeter and we'll have an Ursa infestation on our hands,_ thought Roman, annoyed.

-"Uh, hello? Carrot-top is standing right here, you know. She's not my employee, either, though she is under my protection for now." –Neo looked at him curiously and shrugged. Deni just rolled her eyes.

-"Ah, yes, the shining knight." –sarcasm was impregnated into her tone. "It didn't suit you back then, and it doesn't now, kiddo. In any case, I'm sure we can work something out, the three of us. Timesharing and the like- Just like a divorced couple! –she said cheerily. Both Neo and Roman cringed at that.

-"I'd suggest we leave it up to Neo, and even then, not right now. Decisions are best made when best dressed." –he said, putting a hand on Neo's shoulder. She looked at his hand and smiled up at him, nodding at the older woman to show her agreement.

Denari sneered at her, and then something…odd happened. In all his years of knowing her, Roman had only once seen the woman scared. He supposed it was a trait of dog Faunus; braving whatever came without flinching. The terrified expression he'd caught for half a second, he'd only seen once, years before, brought by the terrible realization of what a red dust crystal she'd been holding and Roman's cane pointed at her meant. _What just happened?_ He thought, perplexed. The woman recovered quickly enough, her face now impassive.

-"Fair enough, younglings. I'll be in touch in a couple of weeks, plenty of time to make up your mind. In the meantime, I'd suggest you teach your protégé all about your fabulous fashion sense. You'll want to look the part." –she said, passing them by. _Great,_ he thought with an eye roll, _a date *and* clothing tips with Ms. Bloodthirsty. This'll be fun._

Roman was brought out of his musings by a slight tug on his sleeve. Neo nodded towards the door, and crossed her arms.

-"Yes, yes, I'll tell you about it. Later, when you've settled in and have _actually dressed_." –he sighed. Neo just gave him a knowing smile. _This is going to be harder than I expected, _he groaned inwardly.

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><p>Denari was getting old, of that there was no doubt. But even her <em>comprehensive<em> experience had not prepared her for the sweet looking girl who'd so badly freaked her out. It wasn't just the chilling smile she'd given her in the end there. The scary part wasn't even the strong aura she'd detected from her very rudimentary training.

It was the eyes. Cold, calculating, shifting eyes. Pink, brown and white, changing with every blink. This girl meant trouble. A bomb that could blow up in her face. She'd had her fill of explosions for a lifetime, though.

Maybe this little black book might help direct the blast for her purposes.

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><p><strong>To those of you who guessed Cinder, I don't blame you. I made it deliberately ambiguous with the last line of the chapter before this. To those who actually guessed right, kudos. Denari's name was barely there and you caught it, which to me means you pay very close attention to my chapters. That makes me happy! <strong>

**I'm aware that many people don't quite like OC's. I'm not fond of them if I can't justify their existence or provide a good enough backstory for them. I think I have Denari very well thought out, though, and this fic basically writes itself with her inclusion, so she's staying. If it's not your thing, I get it. But if Ms. Castrere is to your liking, then brace yourself, because you've got an awesome story incoming, if I do say so myself. **

**If you wanted to see Cinder in this story, I'll just say this: this was only the first act. Two more remain, and you never know who you might find in them. I know for a fact no one's gonna expect one of the RWBY characters I'll include, except for Aegis-story, whom I've already talked about and is my unofficial beta reader :D (I should do something about that status). **

**Hopefully, I'll have another chapter within the next two days, because, unfortunately, I'll have to take a brief break for the holidays. I'll try to write a lot in advance (on actual paper *shudders*) so I have something for you when I get back! Please give me a review if you'd be so kind! **

**P.S.: Grimmoire is me playing with a name for Hell in Remnant. Don't think too much of it. - Darthkvzn**


	7. The Story And The Flashback

**Oh boy, I managed to squeeze another chapter out before the hiatus, and it's the biggest one yet. I think you'll like it! - Darthkvzn**

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><p>Even though her dear Mother was dead, Neo rejoiced in spiting her.<p>

The witch had wanted her to be the finest killing machine, and while she didn't really know all of the changes she'd gone through, she'd experienced a few. She was highly resistant to pain, for one. Her bones never broke, no matter how hard a hit she'd taken. It wasn't easy to actually damage her, and if it actually happened, she could be back on her feet within a day. She also had a "hot soul" as her Father had called it, which apparently meant her core, and the source of her Aura and Semblance, made her warmer than most humans. Now, while discomfort when overheating wasn't truly a problem, she would start to feel ill after a while. So Neo showered with cold water, which her mother had always viewed as a sign of weakness.

Neo always showered with freezing water, as a result.

Her gracious host had provided her with a room, a full wardrobe to choose from, and many other…amenities, as he'd called them. Her original room back in the mansion had been very sparsely decorated, but apparently he'd remembered that books were something she did keep around, as he had given her about 150 different books to read. Neo wasn't exactly sure why he was being so generous. Maybe he just had too much Lien, or he was, despite his thieving nature, just a kind person. Perhaps he was just scared of her, but was smart enough to keep her in close observation. As she finished her shower and toweled herself dry, she pondered what her next step should be. This Denari woman clearly came with ill intent; her slight perspiration and obvious bias against Roman meant that she'd probably expected to gain some kind of advantage over him and take her all for herself. Brown thought that was unacceptable, but Pink could respect the woman's intentions. Apparently, being a cutthroat was essential to survive the kind of life she wanted to lead, something she'd finally decided on a few hours ago.

Roman had promised to tell her about the Faunus woman on the condition that she settle in. She hadn't brought much, just a few clothes to last her a couple of days and her hygiene supplies. Brown giggled at the recurring situation of Roman seeing her naked. She didn't mind, and he didn't look flustered, though he scowled at her every time she did something even remotely alluring. Pink rolled her eyes, as the nude factor seemed to have lost all tactical effect on him; clearly Brown was letting her feelings get the better of her. The only advantage to having fewer clothes on was that she could fight for a longer time due to her tendency to overheat. Brown chided her; they had to have priorities, and they'd already agreed to make themselves a partner to Roman one of them. They had, after all, come to the conclusion that Roman wasn't evil, didn't want to use her abilities against their combined will, and, most importantly for Brown, was super hot. Pink just rolled her eyes again.

White had been suspiciously quiet. Neo's psycho side had listened to Denari's offer intently, her smooth words whetting the psychopath's appetite for blood. Ordinarly, she would've murdered Roman and Denari just from the overwhelming lust for violence right then and there. But she hadn't even attempted to wrestle for control, Pink being entirely uncontested until the end of that conversation. Pink had been somewhat curious as to why White was being so uncharacteristically passive, and she'd discovered that White, while angry at something, was being quiet in her loathing. Pink tried asking her what she was thinking but the mad intelligence only responded by attacking her to drive her away. Pink knew she had given away her shifting eyes, and grumbled at losing yet another tactical advantage. They were growing much too soft, way too fast, just by hanging around Roman. Brown consoled her by telling her that at least Denari had looked absolutely terrified for half a second, there. Pink granted her this, and looked forward to meeting the mutilated Faunus in combat, be it mental or physical.

So that's what had prompted Neo as a whole to accept staying with Roman. She'd found a worthy rival (to Roman, not to her, she scoffed) who needed to be put in her place; she apparently thought herself strong enough to earn Neo's respect, but, unlike Roman, she hadn't fought tooth and nail for it.

These thoughts were on her head as she inspected her form in the full body mirror in the room. She wasn't narcissistic, not really. And it wasn't her nudist tendencies that she was putting into practice. She loved looking at mirrors, as they brought another perspective. Some old part of her, still intact from before the experiment, was fascinated by the radical changes in her appearance. Her almost unnaturally pale skin, the way her hair always remained at the same length though not always at the same color proportions; her female features perfectly defined, but her height that of a much younger woman. She stood on her toes, stretched her arms to their maximum length, and still she didn't reach the full height of the mirror. She slumped, disappointed. She hadn't grown any taller.

-"You know, some of us like shorter girls. Generally cuter, less intimidating. Not that the intimidation factor is reduced for you, my dear psychopath, but the cuteness part still applies." –Roman said from the bedroom door.

Neo turned around. Roman was looking at her amusedly. He'd clearly caught her whole routine. She pointed at her ears, then at him, then raised her eyebrow in question.

-"Didn't hear me this time, did you? Well, I didn't want to interrupt your little appraisal session, so I just held my breath. You probably could've heard my footsteps if I hadn't been walking barefoot on a fancy rug." –he said smugly while checking his nails.

Neo rolled her eyes, blinked and her eyes turned both brown. She wagged her eyebrows, pointed at both of her eyes, then at her uncovered chest.

-"Don't think too much of it. It's not like you have something new to show me, I've been around. Besides, with how little you seem to appreciate clothing, I've kind of gotten used to what you look like unclothed. Not to say that you don't look great, of course." –he said with an eye roll.

Neo considered this, tapping her chin. She shrugged and went to the clothes lying on the bed. She hadn't decided what she wanted to wear yet, so much to choose from that she'd barely reduced her decision to underwear. She looked at Roman and motioned for him to come over, pointing at all the panties and bras.

-"Are you really asking me for underwear advice? –he said skeptically.

Neo gave him her best _"Duh"_ look.

-"Fine, but I don't think this is something even couples do." –he said, annoyed. Neo looked at him smugly. She was enjoying herself, clearly. Roman was, too, to be honest. He'd never thought he'd be giving fashion advice to a naked woman he wasn't dating. Life was weird.

A few minutes later, Neo was wearing a simple button-up pink and white shirt, and brown pants. She kept barefoot, pouting at Roman when he suggested a pair of boots for her. She smiled and wiggled her toes, letting him understand that she disliked her feet being constrained. Roman relented, but told her that she'd have to wear shoes whenever they left the house. She made a face at him, but nodded.

-"So, you're comfortable, clothed and expectant. Ready to hear the story of a certain dog Faunus?" –he asked her. Neo nodded eagerly. "Well, a few years ago…"

* * *

><p><em>She woke up, her dog ears sensing something her regular ones would never have picked up. She didn't open her eyes though, not yet. Someone had dared enter her home, and, while the price for that was death by her hand, she wanted to make sure the intruder would be caught. It was fairly impressive to her, considering her goons patrolled every inch of the complex. She made a conscious effort not to let her special ears move freely, lest she give away the fact that she was tracking the offender. The stranger was about five meters away, hiding, probably in her closet. There was movement then.<em>

_-"Let's not pretend here. You already caught me. Now, if you promise not to shoot on sight, I've got a business proposition for you." –a smooth male voice said, young, though not much younger than her. There was no hesitation in his voice, though he did drawl as if bored. Did this kid know who she was?_

_-"You've got guts, boy." –she said, rising from her plush bed. She stood and walked toward her closet. She opened it, ready to strike at a moment's notice…only to find it empty, except for a small voice box._

_Somewhere behind her, laughter rung out. She turned around, stumped. She got a sock thrown at her face for her trouble. Throwing the garment away, she looked at the interloper, annoyed._

_-"I admit you've also got talent, but my patience is wearing thin. Who are you, and what do you want?" –she barked._

_The boy laughed. He had a full head of orange hair, comically standing out against his all black attire._

_-"Well, Ms. Castrere, my name is Roman. Roman Torchwick. And I think that my talents could be of some use to you."_

* * *

><p><em>She woke up, her head a groggy mess. She checked the glowing display of her clock, 2:45 am. She groaned softly; it was way too early, and they'd had a night that'd been way too fun. He had stamina, she had experience. Combined, it made for very exciting encounters. Speaking of which, where was that redhead? His side of the bed was warm, so he couldn't have been gone for long.<em>

_She couldn't be bothered to fumble for her clothes, and it was a summer night anyway, so she went and looked for him as Dust had seen her born, give or take a couple of decades of physical maturity. She shuddered at the thought of her puberty, then shuddered at her random, sleep addled thoughts._

_She found him polishing his weapon in the balcony, looking out at the city of Vale._

_-"Hey, Roman. Did I not wear you out enough that you need to waste some good sleep on polishing that damn cudgel of yours?" –she asked, softly. It was all in good fun, of course, and their relationship had been built up on that banter, ever since she'd taken him under her wing, two years ago._

_-"Deni, I'd tell you to make yourself comfortable, but I see you're already dressed for the occasion. Which is to say, not at all. Sit down, I'd like to share the beautiful view with a beautiful lady." –he said, smooth as ever_

_-"Might want to look harder if a lady is what you're looking for. All I see here is a smooth ginger and a naked bitch." –she said, chuckling._

_Roman chuckled at that, then gestured toward the city. "When I was a kid, I dreamed of living inside the safe borders of the city. I lived with my mother, you see, and we didn't have much at all. There was always the danger of becoming the lunch of Grimm, like Old Man Jenkins did. It's ironic. Now that I live in Vale, I'm the danger, even if I don't quite get to the "eat my enemies" part." –he said._

_Denari leaned forward, interested. He never shared anything about his past, which was good for business, but she really wanted to find out more about him. Still, she wasn't about to let up on their banter._

_-"Hey pup, don't knock it until you've tried it. All joking aside, I thought I'd never find out anything about your past. We don't tend to be very forthcoming about it, huh?" –she said curiously._

_Roman just shrugged. "What can I say, I trust you. I know I shouldn't share, but we do everything together, from bribing officials to screwing around. Who knows, maybe you deserve that trust and I'm not making the huge mistake you've always warned trust to be."_

_Denari smiled, even her tough exterior mellowing at his words. She stood and kissed him, dragging him back to the house._

_-"Alright, you snake, enough with the silver tongue. You've made the bitch crave another round, and your fancy cane isn't going to get you out of this one." –she said, her voice husky with lust. Roman just raised his eyebrow, but otherwise followed her in._

* * *

><p><em>She woke up and tasted blood. Great, she hadn't died. She groaned and checked herself for injuries. Other than a bitten tongue and little-to-no recollection of why she was now covered in debris and dust, she only felt the telltale dull ache of bruises forming. What happened?<em>

_She regained her bearings and heard shouting. They were still being attacked. Whoever was behind this must've wanted to take her out first, but maybe they knew she had survived and had sprung their actual assault. She remembered a bright flash, so judging by the state of the room, she supposed it had been some kind of concussion bomb. They could be lethal, but they were mostly used for…structural damage. She let her reflexes take over, just as the ceiling started caving in on her. She'd narrowly avoided death, yet again. Today sucked, definitely. Payback was in order._

_She rose and looked for her dagger and gun. She found the blade, but her handgun had been crushed by the ceiling. A pity, it had gotten her through many tough situations. She'd need Roman for long range support. Where in the four kingdoms could he be now?_

_-"Oh, dear, you've survived. Now you've gone and made this harder for the both of us." –a smooth voice called behind her._

_She turned, eyes wide and rage building. Sure enough, Roman Torchwick was staring at her, leaning on his cane and carelessly sweeping his bangs away with his free hand. He walked toward her, his hands behind his back, along with his weapon. Even in her state of shock, Denari eyed Melodic Cudgel warily._

_-"I'm not going to lie; planning this little coup took a lot of resources and favors. But I did learn from the best. Really, I'm surprised you didn't expect it, Deni. Could've run from the kingdom, or worked out something with me. Why didn't you?" –he asked, and seemed genuinely curious._

_Denari almost didn't find her voice._

_-"You can hardly blame me for not expecting to be stabbed in the back by the man I love." –she said, her voice broken and not from her injuries._

_Roman nodded in understanding. "And here I thought you'd been playing me for a fool these last three years. Maybe you still are, but hey, I'm no mind read. What I am is a thief, a criminal. A cutthroat. And like I said, I learned from you. So, while outright murder isn't my style, yes, I did metaphorically stab you in the back." –he said, tossing her something red from behind his back._

_-"I think I will miss, you know, 'us'. But oh, well. It's just good business right? Now be a dear and hold that Dust crystal closer to your heart, so it will hurt less." –he said, pointing at it with the Cudgel._

_Denari took half a second too long to understand what he meant. Then she panicked and tried to throw it, but could only manage to let it go before she heard the shot. For the second time that day, she saw a bright flash and blacked out._

_When she came to, all she knew was pain. It was all over her, but most intense on her left side. She struggled, but opened her eyes. She couldn't move, and she wanted to know why. She regretted her decision, though. Her left side was completely unrecognizable. Her arm had been completely vaporized, the skin from her neck all the way down to her calves burned to a crisp on that side. The pain was agonizing, but even worse was the certainty that if she survived this, she'd be scarred for life. Her once beautiful body, perfectly symmetrical, smooth and supple, was now a mangled, half charred mess._

_The medical personnel found her in that same position, and though they thought her tears were from the burning pain, the hole in her stabbed heart was the cause. She vowed right then and there to make the one who'd done this suffer like she had._

* * *

><p>Denari woke up shouting. Her breathing was heavy from the nightmare, but she calmed down soon enough. Another night, another nightmare. She went into her bathroom, turning on the hot water on her bath. Taking off her robe, she inspected her ruined body bitterly. The burned skin had healed after months of treatment, but it had ended up ugly and purple. Whatever Roman had hit her with (Red Dust, the doctors had theorized) had stuck to her upon detonation, destroying tissue everywhere it touched. She'd lost muscle mass, a bit of bone, even her left breast. She'd received implants for all of it, but it had only made the scarring worse. She sighed, going into the warm water. As her muscles started relaxing, so did her mind.<p>

Soon enough, Torchwick would pay. And that freakishly colored lab rat would be the instrument of his downfall.

* * *

><p><strong>I can't believe how long that turned out to be. I like to think that this story, much like a storm, is full of gray. Every character is capable of both evil and good, I firmly believe this. And, with that capability, comes the fact that no one is truly evil, and no one is truly good. We all have our dark sides, or dark pasts and our terrible memories. It is up to us to make our future better, and I think you'll understand when I tell you that some of the characters of this story have done, and will continue to do precisely that, while others will rejoice in the art of cold, cold revenge. <strong>

**So now you know. I love my OC, and I gave her the best and worst motivation for a villain: a broken heart. Shattered, more like, but you get the idea. Now that's not to say that it's all she wants, but of course, it is her main drive. I would love your feedback on this. **

**So yeah, I adopted nudity as a quirk of Neo's character. I gave it a good reason, I think. Now don't think I'm that perverted. I'm not really imagining her naked. I just think it fits my version of Neo, and it makes her even more fun to write. Nudist psychopaths. Never thought I'd be writing one. I'd love some feedback on this, too. **

**Ok, now the hiatus really starts. Just know that I love this story and my readers so much that I forfeited a good night's sleep for you. I DID IT FOR YOUUU! - Darthkvzn**


	8. The Daily Dealings

**First off, terribly sorry. The holidays may end a bit later in my place than in most of the world, but I really didn't mean to take this long. But I won't bore you with the details, so let's leave it at "personal problems" and be done with it. Secondly, I will see this story through, don't worry about it. I may be slower about it, though. Not enough time to write, I regret to say. But it will end, and I hope you find it as awesome as I have (here's hoping that didn't come out super narcissistic).**

**Anyway, onto chapter 8! Hope you enjoy! - Darthkvzn.**

* * *

><p>-"Really, Admiral, you wound me with this dismissal. Here I thought we had something special." –the blonde said to the holographic display.<p>

_Business as usual,_ Denari thought, giddy at the prospect of the day's events. First up to bat was Admiral Stalbark. Big shot at Atlas, strong voice for anti-faunus rights laws and, most importantly, involved in a long-time affair with a certain half-crispy blonde. In spite of his stance against her race, Denari had found out that the good Admiral had a crippling weakness for fair haired women. Having been forced to marry a black haired woman due to political pressure in his youth, he had been desperate to find some way to satisfy his craving, and a younger Denari had been very happy to provide that, in exchange for secrecy and the right to a few favors. The Admiral had been assigned to an experimental branch of the Atlasian navy in his early thirties, working on Spec-Ops projects and designing top of the line security systems for VIP targets to be defended. Among such clients was the Schnee Dust Company, whose CEO had requested the particular technology that Denari and Stalbark were currently discussing to be developed.

-"Hardly." -he said seriously. "Our arrangement left little space for sentiment. And, though it did allow for favors, which you are so..._sweetly_ trying to collect now, I'm afraid that this is really too much for me to even consider. How you know of the Similaire Project is beyond me, and frankly, quite worrisome." –the old, bearded man said, sternly._ The man's playing hard to get. How adorable,_ Denari thought.

-"Can't blame a woman for trying to be sweet. But come, now, Admiral. We both know that you'll cave once I offer what I'm sure you've deeply missed. And, really, what could little old me do with that tech that might possibly endanger your career? –she said, her words honeyed.

The admiral wavered for a second. Denari smirked inwardly: _Got'cha._

-"Last I heard, you were blown half to bits. From the scars on your neck, I'd say the rumors were not too far off." –he said smugly. Denari feigned a hurt expression.

-"My, my, how insensitive. Is that any way to speak to an old flame? In any case, my dear admiral, as you well know, medical technology works wonders. I assure you, aside from the scars and arm I keep as a...reminder, all the important _bits_ are intact. Please, let us be done with this farce. We both know there's little else to say." -the woman said, her tone slightly bored.

The admiral huffed, indignantly, and cut the connection. Denari smirked. _Wait for it…_

Her inbox pinged, and Denari crossed her arms in satisfaction.

* * *

><p><em>Well,<em> Roman thought wryly, _I suppose these two weeks haven't been a complete disaster._

It started out rough, sure enough. A lot of miscommunication and hard fought battles to control the little psychopath he was now staring at (which he was apparently doing a lot, lately, as pointed out by his staff and friends). Roman wasn't a man usually conflicted, but, as with many things during the last couple of weeks, Neo seemed to thrive in being his exception.

Take her now, for instance. She was cutely trying (and failing) to eat ice cream from a bowl. She seemed not to understand the correlation between eating ice cream quickly and 'brain freeze'. So, every spoonful she swallowed was accompanied by a wince and stroboscopic irises. Very funny and endearing, of course. Even Roman had to admit that.

Also, quite hard to associate with the cold blooded torturer from last night.

Roman and Neo hadn't just been playing house; he'd been teaching her the ropes, showing her how his business operated; from performing the petty robberies and assaults, to being paid for "protection" against these. Roman also offered a variety of services, including information trading, staging kidnappings, helping clients evade authority and disappear, providing security for more dubious dealings, and bribing government officials for a fee. Less savory and more corrupting businesses were better left to the criminals who lacked the moral compass Roman and his goons had, twisted as it may be. With no more than a hundred men, Torchwick had built a sizable criminal network that spread all over Vale, and was used by many supposedly "upstanding" citizens, in addition to the more usual customers.

Neo had taken to the community with gusto, getting perfectly along with Roman's associates, playing tag with their children and Atlasian Seven with the seniors. She'd proven very useful in executive meetings and dealings, bringing an intimidation factor that somewhat lacked in Roman's charming demeanor. She was a bit overkill for the lower level operations, though. This had been proven when she was asked to "disrupt" a convoy of armored trucks carrying millions of Lien. She'd come back with all the money and had knocked out no less than 26 armed guards. Roman, of course, had meant only to steal a relatively small amount, so as to not draw too much attention from the armed forces he could not afford to pay off. Neo, in her eagerness to please, had taken everything. He'd scolded her (which felt weird, since not too long ago he'd been trying to avoid being killed by her) and given the money back to a clearly distraught government official. "Terribly sorry for this misunderstanding. You know how it is with rookies, right?" –he'd said to the shocked man.

Tormenting people for information turned out to be the job Neo genuinely enjoyed. She'd start off easy with a "beating"; an exercise in frustration for the victim, since they were allowed to go unbound into a room with nothing in it except for a small, teenaged looking girl, and told if they could beat her, they'd be free to go, no strings attached.

The most stubborn of them had lasted three hours before collapsing, exhausted. Neo had never even been touched.

After that, came the actual interrogation. Roman would voice the questions from a control booth, also managing the shock chair the poor person would be strapped into. When they came to, they'd find the same mute maniac in front of them, except they were now powerless to escape, and Neo now sported a long, thin, pointed metal rod, which she would heat up in a small machine powered by Red Dust vials, and then trace over their skin when the victim failed to answer Roman's queries.

None of them managed to keep silent by the end. And should they lie, they'd be left out on the wilderness, scars fresh, to fend for themselves until they met someone who could help…or something that would help themselves to their broken forms.

Roman couldn't deny he morbidly enjoyed watching Neo at work. Her utter lack of remorse, her firm and steady hands, and the complete absence of pity were entrancing, not to mention baffling, when it came from the woman who only two days ago had timidly asked Roman what he thought of her new "costume".

Oh yes, she'd asked. No, she was still as silent as an empty house, ripe for burglary. Roman had taken it upon himself to learn sign language to more effectively work with Neo (and to get to know her better, but he'd never admit that reason). Neo had pantomimed with joy when he'd proposed the idea. She'd also learned the whole thing in thirty minutes. Now, Roman was no slouch, but even after a week he could barely speak like a highly evolved dog: with single words and bodily expressions. Neo, seeing how much trouble he was going through for her, had "lowered" her skills to his level, speaking very slowly and letting her eyes and body language clue Roman into the nuance and hidden meanings. Everything was going well, or at least as well as criminal lives can go.

What conflicted Roman the most wasn't Neo's disturbing attitude changes, or her obnoxious tendency to prance around the house naked, but actually a conversation they'd had a couple of nights ago.

Roman had been showing her a photo album he appeared in. Neo had been fascinated by the images of a younger, happier Roman and his mother, listening intently to the tale of his youth and old friends, his failed Huntsman training (at which she scoffed), and his start in the criminal career. Roman had almost gotten lost in the tale, when a single tear fell on an image of him and a young, attractive Denari.

-"What's the matter? You're not jealous of her, are you? I'm pretty sure I made it clear how *not* into her I am now." –he said, a hint of worry on his otherwise jovial tone.

Neo narrowed her eyes and scowled at him, almost offended.

_=Don't – be – stupid – Don't – envy – her – Envy – you=_, she signed at him.

-"Jealous of me? Well, I *am* quite wealthy and handsome, but otherwise, I can't quite see why _you_ of all people would envy me. You're clearly good looking, and the wealth should be quite easy for you to attain." –he said with a laugh, referencing the armored convoy incident.

Neo cheered up a little, but still pouted. Pointing at him, she signed: _=Had – childhood=_, then pointed at herself and said: _=Neo? – no – childhood – Experiments – only – No – Fun – Until – Roman=._

Roman's tough heart cracked a little. He sobered up and said: "Well, I'm glad I can provide suitable entertainment. Even if you *do* want to kill half the people we deal with." –he smiled, smugly.

Neo signed a word, but quickly made to correct herself. Roman didn't quite catch it, but he thought it might've been _=Can't=;_ she laughed her silent laugh at some inside joke, then signed _=Don't – want – kill=_, pointing at none other than himself.

The cracked heart warmed at her glistening, mismatched irises. _Well,_ he thought, _I didn't fall for the sociopath. Maybe psychopaths are more my type._

* * *

><p>If Denari hated anyone (besides Roman), it was teenagers. If she hated anything, it was idealistic thinking.<p>

Dealing with two teenagers from the "newly reformed" White Fang was not only insulting to her as a crime boss, but also pretty much her worst nightmare.

One of them was a redheaded young man with horns. He wore a very lavishly detailed Grimm mask and held himself with an air of (likely unearned) superiority. _Oh, joy_, she thought,_ a crusader._ He was tall and dressed in a fine black shirt and pants, and carried a katana with a shotgun looking cannon on the hilt. This meant Denari, while not happy to deal with them, had to tread lightly. Anyone capable of both building and using a weapon like that (and she had to assume that was the case) had to be treated with some measure of respect. She suspected he was the kind of Faunus who refused to deal with humans, unless the negotiations were the aggressive kind.

The girl she could tolerate, at least. For one, she had hardly spoken a word. She looked no older than 12 or 13, but her sure footing and the way she constantly scanned her surroundings while appearing bored meant that she was well trained and, quite likely, lethal. A cat Faunus. Stereotypical, maybe, but both the girl and Denari wrinkled their noses in disgust. The White Fang was, obviously, aware that dog and cat Faunus could barely tolerate each other, so the fact that they sent this kid, meant that she was likely extremely close to the boy. _A mentor_, she mused; l_ikely in a relationship, too, but a rocky one. Or a very one sided one, considering how he never tilts his head towards her unless absolutely necessary, while she stares at him every once in a while._ Her holo screen pinged, ending her thought train. She smiled, pleasantly.

-"So, Adam, Blake. What brings such young and promising little Fangs to my humble abode?" –she said. Demoted to younglings in a single sentence. Denari smirked to herself: _Your move, Horns._

Adam stiffened, the undertone clearly understood. "You sent for us, Ms. Castrere. Our leaders send their regards, and have seen it fit to agree to your terms." –he said, irritation barely contained.

Denari scoffed. _Gunblade or not, you leave a lot to be desired, boy,_ she thought.

-"I am quite aware of this information, Mr. Taurus. Hence the ping from my computer. And I hardly sent for _children_, so if you don't mind, let's skip the pleasantries. The Fang sent two trained agents as emissaries. You are here to either kill me, or threaten me. Now, since you haven't made a single move to threaten me, and you have been recorded the entire time you have been here, I trust you are not foolish enough to commit murder. That means you are here to deliver a threat. Do try and keep it quick, I have a busy schedule. Whore distribution and the sale of illegal substances don't take care of themselves, you know." –she said with half lidded eyes and a bored tone.

Blake paled (even more), and Adam seemed to have developed quite the tick.

-"Well, ma'am. Since you seem to have us all figured out, I'll get right to it. You are warned not to abuse this gift. The men will do whatever you request of them, no questions asked, but should you misuse their service, you'll be facing our own particular brand of justice." –he said, his tone clipped. Denari rolled her eyes. _You'll be going places, kiddos, _she scoffed.

-"Fair enough. I'll keep that in mind; now if you don't mind, please show yourselves to the door." –she said, then looked pointedly at Blake. "I'm sorry, my dear, but as I'm sure you'd agree, the stench really is a bit overpowering."

Blake looked conflicted between agreeing with her and wanting to shoot her face off, but ultimately just nodded. Adam looked like he really might behead her, but the cat must've pulled on him or something, because he turned and they left without another word.

Denari only sighed. She'd bet a lot on that little bluff of them being recorded. She didn't think they might've killed her, but rough her up? That might've happened, and she could not afford the delay. In any case, it worked. Now everything was in place. She re-checked her calendar, and smiled. A house call to her hated one was in order, and the start of phase one was soon to come.

The White Fang could keep their warnings. They would never be able to catch her.

* * *

><p><strong>I'd say the plot thickens, but we've already got quite the stew going. There's a couple of references in this chapter that I couldn't resist adding, such as Horns, which turned out to be quite the cool movie. A bit "indecent" as my sister is so fond of saying, but I'd definitely recommend it. Gunblade is for Final Fantasy, I believe; Neo's "costume" is the attire she sports in the main RWBY series, and, since I could've used any OC's instead of Blake and Adam, those are nods to the series as well. Oh, and don't think too much of Admiral Stalbark. I just thought it sounded cool, a portmanteu of Stalwart and Bark, as a similar name to Ironwood. <strong>

**So, what do you think Denari's plan is? What could Project Similaire be? When will I update!?**

**Well, that last one's answer is "hopefully, really soon". In the meantime, do leave a review, if you'd be so kind. They help out a lot, and the one's I got over the hiatus really kept me going! See you next time! - Darthkvzn**

**P.S.: I went back and re-edited _everything_. Ok, maybe not that much, but I did edit the earlier chapters, got rid of all the mistakes (I think) and made it flow better, taking these later chapters as a model. I'd suggest you give them a read once again when I post the next chapter! Then again, I'm not your mother. Or related to you. See you next time!**


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